


Doing it Right

by Morgane (smilla840)



Series: Quantum of Solace: the Villiers edition [2]
Category: Casino Royale (2006)
Genre: M isn't impressed, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-15
Updated: 2012-07-15
Packaged: 2017-11-10 00:28:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/460229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smilla840/pseuds/Morgane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The date. Kind of.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Doing it Right

**Author's Note:**

> Sequel to Righting a Wrong.

Later – much later – Villiers would wonder why on earth he had ever thought a date with Bond would go smoothly.

By 3.30 pm that day there was an impending crisis in Ukraine, one that required a 00. And Bond, being off the roster until further notice, was the only one available – not that it would have changed anything if M had sent someone else, Villiers’s presence being needed at the office to monitor the situation – and Bond. So he focused on the job at hand and did _not_ think about the missed date or the kiss Bond had stolen as retribution on his way out – not too much anyway.

It took six days before they were confident enough that the crisis had been averted and Bond was called back. By the time he landed Villiers was passed out in his bed, catching up on much needed sleep. And when he got back to his desk the next day Bond had been sent off on another mission already.

Villiers spoke to him once or twice a day – the man always seemed to need some intel – and tried not to be distracted by his not so subtle innuendoes. He dealt with those with the usual eyeroll and private smile although he did catch himself blushing a handful of times when he had to remind Bond that he was on speaker.

M wasn’t impressed. And Villiers wasn’t sure he would ever be able to look the PM in the eye again.

When Bond finally came home for more than 24 hours in a row Villiers was waiting for him with a lecture on proprieties at the office. Bond suffered through it with a smirk and when Villiers concluded with _“No more embarrassing me in front of my boss”_ Bond grabbed the lapel of his suit and yanked him forward for a welcome home kiss.

“And no kissing in the office,” Villiers added belatedly when they parted and Bond just laughed.

“So. You have anything planned for tonight?” he asked as Villiers attempted to smooth down his now creased tie.

“I’m meeting my parents for dinner,” Villiers said apologetically. He would reschedule – they’d understand – but it was his father’s birthday. “But tomorrow’s good, if you’re free.”

“Tomorrow it is,” Bond answered, sounding somewhat disappointed and Villiers just had to kiss him again – after looking around furtively to make sure M wasn’t about to walk in on them.

Bond looked decidedly more upbeat when he left his office and Villiers found himself smiling. Maybe dating Bond wasn’t wise but that sure as hell wasn’t going to stop him.

 

The next day they made it as far as the restaurant before Villiers’s phone rang. It was M, requesting his presence immediately. 

He didn’t think anything of it – emergencies happened, especially in their line of work. And if he was short-tempered all night M wisely didn’t comment on it.

 

On their third try they didn’t even make it to the car. M again. A matter of the utmost importance. And if he happened to know where Bond was, his presence was required as well. Since the man had very pointedly turned off his own cell phone at the beginning of the evening – and Villiers wouldn’t dream of assuming that M didn’t know about the two of them – her comment didn’t cause more than a raised eyebrow. It was M, after all. So Villiers just sighed and dragged a grumbling Bond with him back to HQ.

In the end it turned out to be a false alarm but by the time they had realized as much Bond was already half-way around the globe. 

Villiers wasn’t pleased. Not at all.

 

On their fourth try he called Bond to tell him not to bother – M had called him in again under the dubious pretence of needing to locate a file urgently. Since Villiers knew his filing system was flawless, it got him thinking that maybe M was always interrupting them on purpose. Especially when one file turned into ten and Villiers spent the night trying to find files that had suddenly vanished into thin air.

He would have found it amusing – she was, in effect, cock-blocking Bond – if she hadn’t also been cock-blocking _him_. And while he knew that it was her weird way of showing that she cared, it really had to stop before she drove them both crazy.

 

The fifth time – that had to be rescheduled twice when Bond had to leave on assignment precipitately – his phone didn’t ring for the longest time and Villiers actually thought this was it, this was their first uninterrupted ‘first’ date. When it inevitably did they had just started dessert – Bond making quite a spectacle of it that had Villiers half-hard and trying not to let on – and Villiers considered not answering for a split second before professionalism kicked in.

“I’m going to kill her,” Bond growled as they made their way back to his car.

“No you’re not,” Villiers reminded him, passingly annoyed himself.

That M was worried about him getting involved with Bond on something other than a purely sexual level was rather touching – although not as altruistic as one might think, since Villiers knew for a fact that she hated having to hire new assistants. Or maybe she was just trying to ascertain whether being in a relationship would interfere with their work. Either way it really had to stop: Villiers was walking into this with his eyes wide open and no unreal expectations – he did know Bond better that most after all. He was good at his job and would continue to be. And he wasn’t going to quit, no matter what happened – though he might if _nothing_ kept happening.

The drive to HQ was silent and when Bond parked in front of it he first made sure to kiss Villiers thoroughly before reluctantly letting him out of the car. By then Villiers was a little dazed and a lot breathless, looking as debauched as Bond could make him in the time imparted, and his smug grin told Villiers he had done it on purpose.

Villiers took a minute to compose himself after Bond drove off – it wouldn’t do to walk into a meeting with a hard-on – and went to meet M.

“Your timing is slipping,” he whispered into her ear as he slipped into his seat, still a little flushed.

Her jaw tightened minutely and Villiers shook his head with a wry smile – she _was_ interfering. At least this time, he thought as he listened to their ambassador in Colombia, she had a legitimate reason for calling him in.

 

On their sixth would-be date, Bond didn’t even bother with reservations. Two seconds after opening the door Villiers found himself pressed against the wall with Bond’s insistent tongue down his throat. For a brief second he contemplated telling Bond that he had talked to M and that she would stay out of their private life from now on – emergencies notwithstanding – but he found that he had more pressing business at hand, grabbing a handful of Bond’s coat instead and pulling him closer before deciding he’d rather get rid of it and pushed it off Bond’s shoulders.

He moaned into the kiss and Bond chuckled, breaking away to let them catch their breath.

“I’ve missed this,” he said as his lips travelled south to his throat and Villiers groaned in agreement, tilting his head back to give Bond more room. He started when Bond bit down and then whined when he started sucking, his hand coming up to bury itself into Bond’s hair, keeping him there until he just couldn’t take it anymore and tugged him up for another kiss.

Some part of his brain that still functioned properly informed him that that was going to leave a mark that his shirt wouldn’t hide and Villiers kindly told it to shut it. He would worry about that later.

Then Bond was dragging him into his bedroom and love bites flew right out of Villiers’s mind. 

The next thing he knew he was sprawled on top of his bed with Bond crawling towards him with an intent look on his face. Villiers swallowed hard, licking dry lips in anticipation, and he watched as Bond’s eyes went dark with lust. It had been a long time since they had last done this. In fact it had been before...

Bond reached for his shirt and Villiers had a second’s hesitation, feeling a little self-conscious – which was ridiculous, considering the number of scars adorning Bond’s body. But he knew his near-death experience had shaken Bond more than the other man would care to admit. The last thing he wanted was Bond getting flashbacks now.

But Bond’s hands were gentle, almost reverent when they undid the buttons of his shirt and caressed his skin, tracing the scar on his side with his fingertips before replacing them with his lips. There was something oddly vulnerable in his eyes then and Villiers suddenly found it a little hard to breathe. He knew what to do though, knew what they both needed, and so he pulled Bond up with a rough “Come here” to remind them both he was alive and well.

That kiss turned into a lengthened make-out session until they grew impatient again and went back to pulling clothes off one another. Then they were naked and Bond’s fingers were inside him, spreading him open and fucking into him and Villiers just couldn’t wait anymore – he needed him _now_ , he needed- 

“ _Please_ ,” he gasped. “Fuck me.”

When Bond finally pushed into him, groaning as he reclaimed his body after all those months apart, Villiers stopped thinking altogether and just felt. There was Bond’s strong body on top of him and his cock pressing deeper inside him and the slight hint of pain that went with it. There was the look on Bond’s face as he struggled against his own need to just slam forward and Villiers’s shout when he went a little too fast for those last few inches. There was their panting breaths and curses and pleas as Bond started to move, apologetically slow at first and then faster, rougher when Villiers moved with him. For a while there was just that, the two of them moving together with growing urgency, the sounds falling from their lips raw as they sought each other’s mouths blindly. And then there was the end – the beginning – and they were coming, bodies jerking and straining against each other as they tried to get as close and as deep as they could, half-whispered confessions filling the sudden stillness of the aftermath.

 

Later Villiers found himself drowsing on Bond’s chest, one arm flung carelessly over him as Bond ran curious fingers through his hair. He had never done that before and Villiers decided that he liked it – must be one of the differences between fucking and dating.

“I’m still taking you on that date,” Bond told him stubbornly and Villiers nodded back sleepily.

He didn’t really care though: he didn’t need dates, he already had Bond.

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted at my livejournal.


End file.
